


take me, take me (take me all the way)

by bxton



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:27:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bxton/pseuds/bxton
Summary: This is the part of the story where the hopeless lover-boy, finally realizing the mistake he’s made, scurries out of bed like the Devil has his ass. He leaves his dignity and he moves out of the country and, hopefully, lives down his humiliation.This time the hopeless lover-boy, a scavenge out of the slums of New York, is Leo Hardwin-- and he doesn’t have the goddamn time to worry about his own dignity.(made from my twitter concept: @ZPlNE: concept: ryan gosling plays a scammer trying to get money from a rich man, pedro pascal, but he falls in love with him)





	take me, take me (take me all the way)

**Author's Note:**

> ooooh shit babes im here.
> 
> hello. this is a completely original work made from a twitter concept i did that kinda blew up. so here are some disclaimers:
> 
> dont be weird about this. don't fetishize any of the things i say here or the concepts i have. the ideas are mine so please don't repost this anywhere without crediting where it came from. i dnt own them, yada yada. have fun w my idea and dont be a dick about it !

_take me, take me (take me all the way)_  
_author: bxton_  
_no rating  
_ _word count: 2,182 words, 11,662 characters_  
  
  
  
  
This is the part of the story where the hopeless lover-boy, finally realizing the mistake he’s made, scurries out of bed like the Devil has his ass. He leaves his dignity and he moves out of the country and, hopefully, lives down his humiliation.  
     This time the hopeless lover-boy, a scavenge out of the slums of New York, is Leo Hardwin-- and he doesn’t have the goddamn time to worry about his own dignity.

 

And the man in his bed? Adrián Hernandez, one of the biggest names in Manhattan, curled up under sheets with his arm wrapped tight around Leo’s shoulder, and Leo is _smitten_ . Smitten more than he’d ever been before, watching him sleep with something close to affection in his eyes, Leo is captivated by the man next to him as if he’s something out of a dream. Who knows, maybe he is? Adrián looks as beautiful as he did when they first met. Not that Leo noticed-- he definitely did _not_ notice. And even if he did, even if he had looked at Adrián and saw someone so beautiful, different, nothing like Leo had ever seen before-- no one needs to know that, right?  
     In his bed, Adrián tosses and turns. The wrinkles on his face have smoothed out into something softer, the harsh lines in his eyes are practically invisible.

 

 _Huh_ , he thinks. _So this is what love is._

 

The sun isn’t fully up yet, not really, but a streak of sunshine shimmers against Adrián’s back and his freckles are lit up, as if under a spotlight. Leo hasn’t had this since he met that one girl back in ‘09; that music festival he was way too fucking old to go to. She cupped his cheek, smiled the kind of smile no one had ever flashed his way before, and she let him go. ( _She let him go and he reached for her again, tried to bring her back-- begged for the love he hadn’t ever received. Some nights, he’ll wake up to Adrián in her place, and his smile is much more gentle._ )

 

Falling in love is, for Leo, something unthinkable. It’s a sin he can’t drag around. His shoulders are too weak from the other shit he’s been carrying, the debt from his apartment. Adrián’s own apartment, along with the big bed they’re sleeping in, feels more home than anything Leo has ever had.

 

With that last thought, Adrián stirs in his arms and the sunlight beaming across his skin is scattered as he turns to press his body more against Leo.

 

This is something Leo doesn’t deserve. Will he let himself have it? You fucking _bet_ he will.

 

Once upon a time, during a period Leo doesn’t quite want to remember, the bulk of his life was made up by scams and bedsheets belonging to men he didn’t quite care about. If you’d ever known a man like Adrián, or someone like Leo, here is what you might gather from them;

  1. He treats everything as if it’s his own. His dark little apartment, the one Leo has only been in once or twice, would beam if Adrián ever stepped in in. His smile is so fucking _good_ , something he doesn’t fucking _deserve_.
  2. Leo Hardwin is a selfish man. He sees someone like Adrián and he takes. He takes and takes until Adrián has nothing left to give. And then he’ll take more.



 

What knocks him out of his stupor isn’t the alarm ringing softly from a burner phone buried in his pocket-- no, what knocks him out is the gentle sigh of Adrián as he feels Leo’s weight around him. His nose is cold as it pushes against the crook of his neck to flood itself in the warm heat of a shared body. Is it dramatic if he wants to hear wedding bells? Is it a sin if he never wants to let him go?

 

It’s mumbled so softly Leo doesn’t even think it was really said, but what he hears, if he heard anything at all, is; “good morning, love.”

 

“Good morning, love,” like Leo isn’t something he’s disappointed in. _Good morning, love,_ as if him in the space next to him is a dream come true. He’s choking on air. _idiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidio-_ “‘morning.”

 

What was a comfortable silence between them has turned sour. Leo’s heart is racing out of his chest and he wants to leave, God, please let him leave. Let him never come near him again, take the money and _go_.

 

“Leo,”  _run, you fucking idiot_ , “you look sick. I can get you some coffee?” He turns his body over, Leo catches a sliver of freckles down his hip, to grab the discarded dress shirt Leo had torn off the night before. He can still remember the feel of soft skin under his rough hands, he has to lick his lips when he thinks about what had happened.

 

“I don’t--” he needs to _leave_ , he needs to leave _now_ , “I don’t want your fucking _coffee_.” The way Leo says this is malicious. He wants to cut his fucking connections with Adrián as soon as he can. How is he supposed to _exist_ if Adrián is right here, contradicting everything Leo has ever- _will_ ever think. Adrián is watching him with the kind of smile he doesn’t deserve. _Stop this stop_ wasting _your love on me I don’t deserve it I don’t deserve you please let me-_ “Look,” Leo feels like this is some bullshit out-of-body experience he’s seen in the movies, “this was fun. _Fun_. I’m not looking for commitment.”

 

Adrián watches him, brown eyes calculating everything he’s just said with the patience of a _saint_ , and his hands run across the dark wood of the bedside table. His nails are clean, Leo notices no traces of dirt or pulled skin whereas his own have been bitten down to nubs from the past five minutes of silence, Leo’s answer coming out of, what seems like, nowhere. For a long time, feelings + Leo = bad. The same way 1 + 1 = 2, and 2 + 2 = 4. He was with every other simple equation you learned your first day in fucking Kindergarten, right up there on the board with the weird, somehow relatable picture to show you how it’s supposed to be done.  
     Adrián + Leo = something bad. 1 + 1 = 2. He isn’t fucking _stupid_.

 

Or-- or he wasn’t stupid, because he certainly feels fucking stupid now. What was he _thinking_? What is he doing? He can’t just show up in someone’s house and expect this to work out, especially with someone like Adrián. Adrián with his soft sides, his gentle smile. Adrián with the warmth in his eyes as he’s watching him and the hand slowly reaching out to touch his shoulders when he gets so _fucked_ he can’t even form a proper sentence. Adrián looks at him like he’s something more than the bullshit scammer he is. Leo wasn’t stupid before he met Adrián. He was a smart man; he got money fucking fast and he didn’t care about anyone else. ( _But he did, he did and he knows he did. He did and he can’t admit that he did because he’s a coward. Is that what he’ll always be?_ )

 

Adrián, gentle, like there’s a wild animal in front of him rather than a man, speaks. “Whatever you want.” He didn’t quite notice the accent in his voice, something you could only hear if you listened very close. He’s in _too deep_. He wants deeper. He wants out. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

 

 _But he is! He is! He’s standing there looking so beautiful, so close to what Leo has always wanted, and he’s scaring him and exciting him all at once. This isn’t what Leo deserves, much less what Adrián deserves. Adrián deserves someone who is with him because he wants him. Adrián deserves the entire goddamn world at his feet with the way he treats people. Whether they deserve it or not, Adrián extends a kindness Leo hasn’t felt in a long time- “-_ you.”

 

Listen to--

 

“What?”

 

Adrián sighs a tired little sigh that sounds like there’s more to unpack from it than he originally thought. “Nothing, Leo. Just-- nothing.”

 

Whatever he said was lost in Leo’s mind. He could only hope it was nothing important.

 

***

 

Leo is many things-- many, many things-- but he never thought himself to be entirely heartless. Sure, he scams his way through a lot of things, even stole a purse from an old woman, because he’s an _asshole_ . Not a _heartless_ asshole. Is he kidding himself if he tries to play it off as a big difference? Is this just one big lie? Is the _entirety_ of this portion of his life a fucking lie? The reviews are in: _maybe_.

 

Maybe. _Maybe_ he’s fucked things up too bad. _Maybe_ he’s just overthinking this. He’s _definitely_ hungry, though. He probably should’ve taken up the food offer Adrián gave to him.  
     It pains him that it’s morning. He can’t sleep off the post-sex high from his night of _sexual affairs_ with Adrián. He can’t act like this never happened, he’s seeing him _later on_.

 

Fuck you, Leo. Fuck you to fucking _Hell_ , you slut. Can’t keep it in your pants, can you? You fucking wreck. You fucking _wreck_.

 

Leo stands up on shaking legs, his stomach is flipping and it feels fucking _horrible_. He’s crying, isn’t he? That has to be where those choked off sounds are coming from, the gasping breaths he’s forcing himself to take. He’s just fucked all of this up, hasn’t he? No turning back now, Leo Boy. Can’t change the past. Can’t undo all the stupid _shit_ you did to get yourself here.  
     He’s on his feet quick and his hands fly out to grab his jacket from the bed. He can’t _be_ here. Can’t be in a place that is feeling less like home every day. ( _Home, what a fun word. Home is ma’s homemade cookies, home is dad’s temper after having a little too much to drink. Home is sitting on the edge of something, your feet dangling off, debating whether or not to jump, because you’ve been on this proverbial edge for so long it’s the only thing you really know.)_

 

The little diner he finds himself hiding in is as quaint as it is messy. The walls have dirt stains from grubby kids touching what they know they can’t, and the tiles on the floor are in their early stages of decaying. The waitresses here are nice enough but they have some grit to them that Leo has only ever found in his slum side of New York. He steps in and is engulfed in the stench of cigarette smoke and what seems to be stale food that’s been sitting out for way too long. This is the famed _Mère Diner_ , ran by miss Eleanor Johnson-Croux. A mousy little thing, stuck in a marriage with some deadbeat fuck she’s too good for. She moved from France when she had met Norman Johnson and swore she was in love with him. She had the accent all the ladies envied, and the looks all the men went after. Because this is real life, she allowed herself to settle for Norman. ( _“He loves me, Lion.” She says, sugar pink lips grazing against a cigarette butt. They’ve been drinking since she got off her shift a few hours before. Eleanor leans forward and kisses his bottom lip. He’s had a lot of first kisses, a lot of different beginnings for himself, but Eleanor kisses like she’s scared of losing something. When his arms wrap around her, and he feels wet tears hitting his jacket, he holds her as she cries. Gently, of course, so she doesn’t disturb the bruises already forming on her arms and shoulder._ )

 

Would Adrián enjoy this place? Not that he’s _wondering_ , of course, but rich folks have to get tired of the same shit all the time, don’t they? Leo’s just offering a service for him-- because he doesn’t fucking care.

 

He doesn’t.

 

(And the simple truths, they go like this;

 

 _ _1._ Leo Hardwin was born to an angel of a mother and a fucked father. He can run wherever_  
_he wants, but he won’t without kissing the marble stone containing his ma’s name, his feet_  
_over where she’s buried._  
_2\. Leo Hardwin. Leo Hardwin lies for a living because the truth is too boring. The truth_  
_doesn’t pay the bills, doesn’t get him any fucking source of income. Leo Hardwin,_  
_he doesn’t want to be Leo Hardwin._  
_And 3. When Adrian had first smiled at him, beautiful brown eyes glistening in hot_  
_sunlight; he had fallen in love. Fallen the way he fell in love with_  
_his ma’s singing. The way he fell in love with Eleanor; so deep he_  
_woke up shaking at night._

 

And the simple truths, they’ll change with time. But for now, they’re all he has.  
So he’ll stick to them.)


End file.
